


October, 1961

by DarlingDearheart



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Slow Dancing, and a bit of the king thrown in for good measure, it's just fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-13
Updated: 2018-09-13
Packaged: 2019-07-12 00:22:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15983618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarlingDearheart/pseuds/DarlingDearheart
Summary: The original radio broadcast of a love song while stranded on a mission is all that's needed to bring them together. Well... one could hope.





	October, 1961

**Author's Note:**

> My first, (and hopefully not last), Garcy fic. I love them. So much. ♥  
> Remember that when you hate me by the end of this story. :)

The crisp air stung the tip of Lucy's nose as she gathered her scarf tighter around her face. Owing to an electrical malfunction, they'd been stuck for the past three days in the north of Minnesota, which meant chilly autumn air and a great many complaints from everyone involved. Wyatt grumbled now and again when they ran out of firewood, Rufus had a smart remark about every ten minutes when he wasn't working to get them back online, and Flynn... Well, Flynn didn't say much, but Lucy could tell he was feeling the same as the rest of them.

Shivering, she stepped through the door of the abandoned cottage they'd discovered and had been using as base camp, reveling in the feeling of the heat washing over her. She set the bag of groceries down on the table and looked around.

"Wyatt? Rufus?" she called as she unwound her scarf and hooked it up on the door.

"Only me," a deeper voice than she'd anticipated answered from the couch. "They went for firewood again."

"And you didn't help?" Lucy chastised with a hint of a smile.

"I went last time. Alone," Flynn pointedly reminded her.

"If you stopped antagonizing them at every opportunity, maybe you'd have a buddy to go with," she reasoned, trying in vain to unbutton her too-big-but-it-was-all-Wyatt-could-steal coat. Her cold fingers fumbled futilely at the toggles and she huffed in irritation.

"May I?"

He was suddenly very close for having been slumped on the couch mere seconds ago. Nodding, she looked up at him with the beginnings of a smile. _Always full of surprises..._

She thanked him as he took her coat and hung it with the others, and it was only then that she detected a quiet sound which she'd not heard before. A slight frown wrinkling her brow, she migrated toward the source of the chatter while a bemused Flynn looked on.

"You found a radio!" she exclaimed upon seeing the box they would all normally call an antique.

"I came across it in a closet. Thought it might cheer the place up a bit," he explained as he gestured to the dim and dusty room.

Lucy adjusted the volume so it was more than just a murmur.

" _—and here it is, folks, the single from The King's newest feature film..._ "

"Oh my God."

The first bars of the song had begun to play and she turned up the volume dial.

"What is it?" Flynn asked and frowned, instantly moving closer.

"This," Lucy turned to him, ecstatic, "is the first radio broadcast of one of Elvis' greatest hits."

She looked back at the radio, beaming, and he watched her closely as the song went on.

_Wise men say_  
_Only fools rush in,  
_ _But I can't help  
_ _Falling in love with you..._

Her eyes were alight with that special spark reserved only for those moments when they encountered a favourite historical figure, or when they landed sometime in the 1940s, her favourite era...

Lucy sat, enraptured, until a hand slid into her peripheral vision. Following it up, she saw Flynn towering over her with a gentle look on his face that she'd never seen before.

"Come on. You know you want to," he said by way of explanation.

She grasped his hand and slowly rose. He pulled her close, the two of them falling into step with one another as though they'd done this a thousand times before.

_Shall I stay?_  
_Would it be a sin?  
_ _If I can't help  
_ _Falling in love with you..._

She was surprisingly at ease for having felt so much fear and trepidation mere moments ago. A dozen thoughts had flitted through her mind, wondering at the propriety and absurdity of dancing with Garcia Flynn, how awkward it would be, how awkward _she_ would be... But there was none of that. It felt natural and, shockingly, _right._

_Like a river flows_  
_Surely to the sea,  
_ _Darling, so it goes,  
_ _Some things are meant to be..._

He looked down at her, all the recent troubles melting away, leaving him thoroughly _there_ in _that moment_. Her hand in his as he made her do a little twirl and set them both laughing, the way she moved closer with each step, and that irresistible gleam still in her eyes... only it was different, somehow, changed from what it had been at the start of the song.

Her gaze barely left his own, all the while she tried to reason with herself. Rufus and Wyatt's voices, among others, shouted things like 'Terrorist!' and 'Murderer!' in her head. The thing was, it was so incredibly difficult to reconcile those words with the man before her as they danced around the small living space of that decaying old cabin. Her perception of him altered, much like she thought Jiya's, Agent Christopher's, and Mason's memories changed seamlessly whenever the timelines went askew, and suddenly she saw him in a different light. It must, she thought, be the same light that her future self saw when she decided to trust him with her journal.

_Take my hand,_  
_Take my whole life too,  
_ _For I can't help  
_ _Falling in love with you..._

As the very first radio broadcast of Elvis Presley's _Can't Help Falling In Love_ drew to a close and their dance slowed and then stopped, Lucy beamed up at Flynn.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"Don't mention it."

"No, really," she insisted in a more serious tone.

He shrugged nonchalantly in response, but she knew he understood as they shared a look. His face was closer to hers, which, given their height difference, was odd, but not alarming. In fact, she was almost enjoying it.

"So is that a favourite song of yours?" Flynn asked in a voice softer than she'd heard from him before.

"I guess... as Elvis songs go," she laughed softly, noting the hushed quality to her voice, as well.

Flynn's face was getting closer, in part because he was leaning further down with each passing second, but also because Lucy's heels had begun to lift off of the floor without her knowledge. The gap between them closed, his forehead and nose brushing hers, and then—

"If we _ever_ have to follow the Mother Ship into cold weather again, _I'm not going!_ " Rufus announced as he and Wyatt burst through the door.


End file.
